On Your Shore
by Erisella
Summary: Pre-Inception. Eames seeks out Arthur after a year of no contact. When they finally meet, he finds himself fighting with his own feelings and insecurities. Sequel to Love the Way You Lie.


**On Your Shore**

**Summary:** Pre-Inception. Eames seeks out Arthur after a year of no contact. When they finally meet, he finds himself fighting with his own feelings and insecurities. Sequel to Love the Way You Lie.

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**Note:** I own no part of Inception or lyrics to "On Your Shore" by Charlotte Martin.

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**1.**

Eames liked to think he was in the right frame of mind when he approached Arthur's condo, tucked away in a busy corner of New York. It was completely conspicuous and yet so completely unexpected for someone who was supposed to be lying low. The forger had a slip of paper clutched in his hand. It told him exactly which unit the point man was living in and yet, he couldn't find the courage to approach the door.

Taking a deep breath, he crumpled the piece of paper and shoved it into his coat pocket before walking away. On his way back to the bus terminal, he spotted a café and decided to at least stop in and have a cup of coffee before he headed back to the airport.

He ordered a small coffee, black with a shot of espresso for his nerves. He knew it was a bad idea to go searching for someone, but he had to after the terms they left on. It had been a full year and neither of them had kept in contact.

Arthur's words haunted him.

"_Have you ever regretted lying?"_

Eames sipped his coffee, one hand playing with the piece of paper in his pocket. _I have now._

**2.**

"_Why do you want to find this man so badly? Did he fuck you over?"_

"_No, I just need to make a few things right."_

Four months ago, Eames recruited a friend to help him find Arthur's address. They had a hell of a time trying to locate the point man, even though they knew he would be in the states. There were no paper trails, not so much as even a hint of where he was. It had taken nearly two months to find the man and even then it was doubtful the address was right.

Yet there Eames was, standing in the streets of New York, wondering why he even tried so hard when he knew he wouldn't have a chance to make things right. When the bus arrived to take him to the airport, he didn't get on. Instead, he walked to the nearest motel and got himself a room.

"Bloody fantastic," he said to himself as he fell onto the motel bed. "Can't make up your mind about anything, can you?"

**3.**

That night, Eames dreamed Arthur was in his motel room, drinking from a bottle of wine. The dream became a memory and they began to talk, repeating all the words they said to each other that night over a year ago.

Those words he thought about so constantly since then kept repeating themselves over and over again in his head.

"_Have you ever regretted lying?"_

"_Not yet."_

His mind couldn't let it go, even when Arthur leaned in close and started kissing him, hard and desperate. Their bodies were pressed together so intimately, he was sure his entire world would merge with the point man's if they got any closer.

But then they were pulling apart and Arthur was standing there, no longer a memory, looking at him with just the slightest bit of hurt in his features, _"You're a terrible liar."_

Then Eames was awake, looking around his dark room, wondering what in the world he was doing in fucking New York.

**4.**

He decided to give it one more shot.

Standing outside of the condominium, he felt a sense of nervousness he wasn't accustomed to. Some might have described it as the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. He described it as feeling so nauseous he was sure at any moment he would hurl. He hoped to god he wouldn't vomit the moment Arthur opened the door.

Taking a deep breath, he told himself that it was the moment or truth. He smoothed out the crumpled paper in his hand and entered the building. The elevator ride up to the seventh floor was better than he thought. As he exited the elevator, he was feeling his old confidence again.

Yet, standing there outside Arthur's door, he didn't dare to make a move. He couldn't get himself to knock on the door and just get it over with.

_What is wrong with you?_ He berated himself, knowing he should have been able to do this on his own terms. Wasn't this what he was good at? Being spontaneous and unexpected?

**5.**

When Arthur opened his door, he wasn't expecting a familiar face. He also wasn't expecting the look Eames had on his face, the look of surprise and nervousness.

"What are you doing here?" the point man asked, giving the forger a curious look.

"Well, you see, I was in the area and thought I'd drop in," Eames answered, trying to sound smooth, but still stumbling on his words.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "You're still an awful liar."

"Come now, darling. That hurts."

Arthur couldn't help doing what he did next, despite the fact he's dressed and ready to go out. He opened the door wider and lets the forger into his home.

"Aren't you going to ask how I found you?" Eames asked, making himself comfortable on the point man's loveseat.

The younger man took of his bag and coat before settling himself opposite the forger, "I don't have to ask. I already knew you would find me."

"Perceptive."

"Eames, tell me why you're here."

**6.**

They sat in silence, neither speaking. It seemed to be a common occurrence between the two of them when they were alone. Eames leaned forward in his seat and licked his lips, they felt so dry as he searched for the right words to say.

"I wanted to say sorry," the forger finally said.

"For what?" Arthur asked.

"For lying to you at the end of our last job."

"Thank you for apologizing," the point man said. He was silent for a moment. "Are you willing to answer the question now?"

"Excuse me?"

"The question I asked that night. Why do you always hesitate when you have to kill me?"

"Afraid not, love."

And Arthur nodded before standing and walking out of the room. Eames thought this was the moment in the conversation when the point man would kick him out. Instead, the other man walked back with a blanket and pillow in his arms. The forger gave the younger man a curious look.

"You must be tired," Arthur said, casually explaining away his actions, "You can stay until you leave."

**7.**

When the point man left for his appointment, Eames started to look around the condo. There were beautiful paintings on the walls. There were no pictures of people, only pictures of places. There was one of Paris, another of Berlin, a snapshot of the Egyptian pyramids, and even one of a small town in Alaska. So many more pictures lined Arthur's dresser, places that held memories. The forger wondered what memories Arthur held in all those places.

When he couldn't take looking around anymore, he sat down on the sofa and stared at his hands. He kept asking himself what he was doing in New York, in Arthur's apartment. He asked himself why he couldn't answer the point man's question. It took him a long time, but he suddenly realized he wasn't ready to answer the question for Arthur or himself.

"I'm not ready," Eames said to himself.

**8.**

When Arthur returned to find his home empty, he wasn't surprised. He knew Eames would leave. He knew, but he couldn't help the feeling of hurt that swelled in his chest.

_When I was melting in your hand you didn't understand  
You slip through me like grains of sand you still don't understand  
Overboard I'm thrown out to see what you are and what I mean to me  
But I will always have my dream where you can swim to me_

At the turn of the tide I feel this part of me die  
I've been on your shore before and it was no waste of time  
Over my head and in my mind  
Am I washed on your shore and barely alive?

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**Note:** I know, I know. I need to be nicer to the boys. However, the series will continue. I have two more songs I want to work with and then it should be all done. Thank you all very much for reading and if you could leave a review, it would be very much appreciated.


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